


Galloping Through My Dreams

by Liritar



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Different States of Living, Interspecies Relationship(s), M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-05-20 20:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6023734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liritar/pseuds/Liritar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk copes with being alone. At least that's what he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Dirk is too far inside his own head

I told myself it was a coping mechanism, at first. I’m always the first to try to psychoanalyze my actions. And after the mess with Jake and my general acceptance of a long, immortal life in solitude, well… how else was I going to satisfy those… urges.

In the admittedly rare times I fell asleep, I would find myself engulfed in strong arms, cradled against someone taller and stronger than even myself. That was one of the things that convinced me that it was a figment of my imagination. In the face of emotional pain, I wanted comfort and protection, along with… the other services my phantom lover provided.

And let’s just say those services were provided with enthusiasm. Marking “feeling wanted” on the list of unusual sensations that I would need a dream man to actually supply.

I’d be disgusted with myself, but really, what’s the point? At least I’m getting my rocks off in dreams and not having a sobbing wankfest in the shower on a regular basis. 

Because I feel satisfied. Perfectly content to wait for the next dream, even though it might be days before I sleep again.

I lay in my bed, staring up at the ceiling, wondering if he’s waiting for me. Does my insomnia cause my nonexistent lover distress? Is he lonely, hidden in some corner of my subconscious mind?

Jesus H. Dick. I really am neurotic.

I close my eyes, try to calm my breathing. I need to sleep. To see the only person who will ever want me as much as I want him. I need it more than I need to breathe. 

I’m trying so hard to fall asleep that I don’t even notice when it finally happens. I feel large fingers sliding through my hair and look up into cracked sunglasses and a broken-toothed smile. I have a brief flash of shock as I realize my dream man is a troll. The details are always hazy when I awaken, but when I’m here, I know him without a doubt. I take a moment, as always, to analyze my fascination with my bro’s troll companions, the same race as the witch who ruined my life, but obviously so different. That’s what this is.

While I’ve been musing over this, Equius--I finally remember his name--has started to kiss me, breaking me out of my almost never-ending spiral of self-examination. His hands are forceful on my back, which I know is not, as some would think, stemming from a desire to be in control, but instead is merely a result of his astounding strength. This is my lover’s gentle setting. And the fact that he tries to curb that wild strength for me, even if he’s not successful, makes my blood boil.

Of course, my subconscious supplies me with an amazingly buff guy who actually likes my control issues, I think as I pull free of the kiss and shove him down onto the floor. He goes willingly; even at my full might, I’m not sure I could have shifted his bulk. I’m not always this impatient, but tonight, I just want to get laid. And fast.

I know we actually took our clothing off, but I feel as if it just melted away. That’s what should happen in dreams, logic tells me. I smirk down at him, running my fingers up his impressive chest. “Do you want me, Equius?” I murmur huskily.

“Oh, horsefeathers, yes,” he gasps, an almost adoring smile on his lips. Should I feel weird about wanting a dream to worship me? Honestly, I’m too far gone to care.

“How much?” I growl, prolonging his desperation. “Tell me.”

He lets out the most delicious whimper. “Fudgsicles. Oh, Dirk. My need of you is so STRONG I can’t take it.”

That’s what I like to hear. I crush my lips to his in a demanding kiss. Within moments I’m fucking him hard, with none of the interspecies fumblings of our first few attempts. It doesn’t take long for the pleasure to overcome my brain, even my customary inner monologue quickly succumbing to oh FUCK he’s good at that oh Jesus Fucking Christ....

Sorry about that. Ahem.

Coherency returns and I find myself playing little spoon on the floor with a giant hunk of troll. This is actually one of my favorite parts of these dreams. The part where I feel safe. Loved.

I close my eyes, drifting off with a feeling of peace. Nothing like anything I feel when I’m awake.

And let’s just ignore the irony of falling asleep in a dream.

When I wake up, I’m in my bed again. Alone. But the sensation of peace remains. I feel a genuine smile cross my lips.

You take happiness where you can find it, I guess.


	2. In which Dirk discovers some truths

I’m hovering at the edge of the gathering. I honestly have no idea why I even bother coming to these things.

That’s not true. I have a reason, and her name is Lalonde. The one time I tried to refuse, Roxy pouted for a week. And if there’s one thing I can stand less than social events, it’s disappointing Roxy Lalonde. I love her more than anyone alive. Or real. I can admit that to myself. She’s been my lifeline for all of my life, and we have a bond tighter than friendship. Than even lovers. She is a part of my soul, and I can’t live without her.

If she had a dick, I’d be all over it. Shit. I’m glad she doesn’t. I don’t need to fuck over any more friendships with my bullshit.

I glance over at her, where she’s laughing at something John said. While being in his lap, to the young man’s obviously delighted confusion. I manage a faint smile. If anyone deserves happiness, it’s Roxy. And there’s no way that I’m going to drag her down into my self obsessed depressive cycle. 

I wander around the edge of the celebration, wondering if I’ve been there long enough for it to count as attending. Wondering if anyone would even notice I’d slipped away.

Wondering if I’m really bound to an eternity of feeling like no one cares that I’m here at all.

I stop walking and tell myself not to be such an ass. Roxy cares, as does Jane, I’m sure. And then there’s Dave and Rose. I may not know them well, but I have some sort of responsibility for them, if only because I’ve cursed them with my fucked up DNA.

And Dave… I really did fuck up his life. No matter what he says, I feel responsible for all the splinters of me out in this or any universe. So if there’s anything I can do to make it up to him, I have to. And as much as I want to believe that means fucking off so he never has to see me again, I know that he’d actually be hurt by that. So I have to try to tone down my assholish tendencies and actually help him.

And speak of the fucking devil. I realize that I’ve been standing in one spot for about two minutes, silently deliberating. And that from the raised eyebrow on my brother’s face, he’s probably been watching me for a minute and a half of that. Not surprising, as I’ve been standing, spaced out, less than three feet from him and his group of friends. 

Dave gestures me over as Karkat continues talking, apparently oblivious to my presence. Actually, what’s really inexplicable is how I was able to think at all, so close to my bro’s boyfriend. Even his indoor voice is enough to give me a headache.

“I even miss the assholes sometimes,” he’s saying as I walk up behind him. “They were fucking idiots and some of them deserved worse than they actually got but they were fucking friends. Nepeta, Feferi, they never hurt anyone. And Equius was a globesqueezing festering shitsponge of a creep, but he never actually killed anyone, either…”

I’ve stopped listening by this point, because I actually know that name. My blood goes as cold as an overused cliche as a face pops into my mind. I know his smile, his frowns, every inch of that chiseled face. And the body beneath it.

Jesus H. Dick, I’m an idiot. I’d even described him as ‘my phantom lover’. Not a figment of my imagination, but a ghost. Fuck, what is this? A stupid ghost story? Paranormal romance novel? As if I don’t have enough weirdness in my life.

I must have gone pale, because suddenly Dave is at my side. “You cool, bro?”

“Yeah. Fine.” 

I shake him off, and then notice Karkat glowering at me. “What the taintchafing fuck, Strider? This is a private conversation about my personal emotions, so you can go fondle your stupid human dick somewhere else!” 

“I was just walking by.” I break away from both of them without another word. I’ve definitely had enough of this party.

I try not to think as I make my way to my relocated apartment. I try not to grieve. Why am I so torn up inside that a man I never actually knew is dead? I’d thought he’d never existed, for fuck’s sake. My lips tighten. I’m not about to cry at the thought of his pain. No deaths in Sburb are ever painless.

I need to see him. I need _him._

I dash inside and throw myself on my bed, shuddering. Fuck. I’m too emotional to fall asleep. It’s not easy for me at the best of times.

There’s only one thing I know to try. Well, two, but the idea of alcohol has never appealed, and I want to have my wits when I see him. If this doesn’t work, though… It’s supposed to dull pain. You’re such a fucking hypocrite, I tell myself. Memories of lectures to Roxy blossom in my brain. Fuck.

I lever myself of the bed and head for the bathroom, stripping as I go. I set my shades on the sink and slip into the shower, turning the water on and letting relaxing heat trail down my spine, curved as I rest my hands on the wall, bracing my physical body as I reach for a dream self that doesn’t exist anymore.

It’s a strain, like it never was before, but I feel myself connecting to something. Suddenly the water vanishes and I find myself naked and dripping water on an alien floor. I’ve been here before, but now I realize this is a memory, probably Equius’ room, before… before.

He’s there, and my heart soars. Fuck, I’ve got it bad. He’s hunched over a robot, doing something that under normal circumstances I’d find fascinating. Maybe I can take a look at it before I break out of my trance.

He hasn’t heard me, and I mean to keep it that way. I slide up to him, barely breathing, and snatch his sunglasses away. He turns in surprise, blank white eyes meeting my orange pupils for the first time. And yes, I’m aware that sleeping in my sunglasses is a stupid habit. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and now I’m just so used to it that it never crosses my mind to remove them.

Equius stares in shock at my living eyes, and I dimly wonder in a corner of my mind what he’d been telling himself. Did he think I was a ghost? A dream? A fantasy?

I grab his hair roughly and kiss him with all the need and grief roiling in my heart.The kiss is long and heated, and long before it’s over he’s sprawled on the floor beneath me, writhing in silent supplication. I’ve always loved how little it takes to get him desperate for me. I pull back and straddle his waist, one hand braced on his wide, distracting chest… Focus, Dirk. The other hand moves to cup his cheek. There’s something I need to say, even more than I need the sex. I stare down into those blank eyes. I can’t read anything in them, but I know him. Every twitch of his face tells me things. Right now he’s worried he’s done something wrong. I’m about to reassure him on every level. “I love you,” I whisper, the first time I’ve ever said it to him. The first time I’ve ever said it to a lover. My heart is painfully tight as I wait for his reaction.

“Dirk...” There is pain on his face, and I get the impression that, like me, he never expected to be loved in his life. Or afterlife. And then we’re kissing again, full of all the love and tenderness that we’ve been craving for lifetimes. It had been there all along, but unspoken. Left to interpretation. Written off as a dream or fantasy.

But this is us. Here we are, hearts bursting with feeling for each other. And if this seems overly romantic, heart is my aspect, after all. And for the first time, I can actually feel a connection, instead of a sensation of being Paradox Space’s largest ironic joke.

I know how to love.


	3. In which there is a tea party

The sun shines brightly in this bubble representation of LOLCAT, reflecting off of all the little cubes, making me grateful for my dark glasses. Enormous hands gingerly cradle a cup of tea that’s mostly milk. Normally, I would have been exasperated with this silly idea, but after the mistakes resulting not only in my own death, but that of my moirail, I could never deny Nepeta anything she wanted. And if she wants a dream bubble tea party, I will comply. Heck, if she’d asked, I would have worn any silly costume she’d demanded. Engaged in any sordid roleplay situation she proffered. I’m pleased that she had not wanted to humiliate me.

I raise my hands to carefully sip from the fragile cup. So far, I’ve managed to only break one. Not that Nepeta minds when I do, but it isn’t civilized to destroy one’s host’s tea set.

“So, what have you been doing, meowrail?” Nepeta inquires brightly, absently batting at a quivering reflection of light on the table. “It seems like furever since we talked.”

I’m drawn out of my quiet introspection. Probably for the best. I’m being unbearably rude. “You know time has little meaning here,” I say sternly. “But yes, I should have come to see you sooner. I apologize.”

She laughs. “Don’t be silly. I’m not mad. I just wonder what’s been distracting you.”

“Oh.” I’m blushing, a rush of cold blood to my cheeks. Nepeta perks up as she sees it.

She pounces across the table, knocking me on my back and sending us sliding across the little cubes.

I wish I wasn’t used to this by now.

“Equius, Equius, Equius!” She grins down at me. Most would think it innocent, but I know her predatory grin. It’s enough to give even the STRONGEST man chills.

“What?” I say, trying to avoid the subject. I don’t want to talk about my… encounters. I’m not even sure _what_ they are. Can a ghost _have_ a matespritship with a living man? It must be a passing fancy. Eventually, Dirk will come to his senses and move on, leaving me to face eternity in solitude.

Well, not solitude. I will always have Nepeta. And my guilt.

“You know what!” She pokes my chest with a claw. “Who’s making you blush like a little kitten?”

“I’m not!” I protest futilely, feeling my cheeks growing even cooler. I must be as blue as can be.

“You are! Tell me!”

We go on like this for some time. It’s almost relieving, falling into our old habits like this. But eventually I must give in. “I’m… dating someone,” I admit softly. “I’m… not sure how serious it is.” That… that’s a lie. I know deep in my heart how serious I am. I love Dirk with all my soul. All I doubt is his continuing interest after he gains his senses.

Nepeta squeals, clapping her hands. “Who, who, who?”

I wince. It will do me no good to keep it secret. “Dirk,” I mutter, blushing again.

“Oh, really? Which one? I’ve met some of the dead Dirks.”

Oh. Yes, of course she thought that. There were multiple dead versions of all of us. “The one from the alpha timeline,” I clarify.

“But… he didn’t die.” Her brow furrows in confusion.

“No,” I agree, biting my lip. “He didn’t.”

Her eyes widen. “That’s so… romantic!” She gets up and darts into her hive. I follow slowly, not quite sure I want to know what she’s up to.

I find her updating her shipping wall, drawing a picture of myself and the human holding hands.

I’m never going to get to stop blushing, am I? Gosh darn Nepeta anyway. It’s a cute picture, if not expertly drawn. And of course there’s not enough nudity for it to be fine art. My blush deepens at the thought of fine art of myself and Dirk. That would be… the depths of depravity. I feel sweat beading on my skin and look away. I have to stop thinking these things. Especially in front of my moirail.

“There,” she beams. “Purrfect.” She bounds to my side and hugs me tightly. “When are you seeing him again?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, sounding sadder than I wanted to admit. “When he next falls asleep, I suppose.” It was hard to know when that would be, given his trouble sleeping. Not to mention the way time flowed in these gosh darn bubbles. I don’t even know how long it’s been since the last time.

It always feels like far too long, though.

She hugs me more tightly. “I’ll be here when you’re lonely,” she says softly, patting my cheek soothingly.

I relax, closing my eyes. Nepeta is far too good to me, considering everything. Sometimes I still can’t believe that she wants to have anything to do with me in our afterlives. “I know,” I finally manage. “Nepeta… thank you.” My arms curl around her, carefully, trying to rein in my great STRENGTH.

She stays in my embrace for a moment, then bounds away, leaping insanely. I stare at her sternly, waiting for her to calm down. Which, of course, she doesn’t.

“I want to meet your matesprit.”

I blink behind my sunglasses. I suppose I should have expected that. “I can ask him,” I say doubtfully. I’m not sure Dirk will want to waste our small amount of time together on a social visit.

Though… that might be nice, I muse. To actually just spend time with my human. Not that our encounters are always just, ahem, but perhaps, just once, we could leave my dream hive.

It would be interesting, to say the least.


	4. In which there is quite a lot of pouncing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nepeta takes matters into her own hands and tracks down her moirail's matesprit to explain a few things.

Seconds after I enter the dreambubble, I find myself slammed to the ground, pinned beneath an unexpected weight. I flail for a katana that’s not there; why had I stopped preparing myself for battle the instant I started dreaming?

Because I’d always felt safe. Equius was usually waiting for me. I draw in a long, shuddering breath, staring up into gleaming fangs.

“Hello!” the troll on top of me says brightly, a confusing dichotomy when combined with the claws pricking my shoulders.

“Uh, hi?” I respond cautiously.

She bends down and sniffs my hair. Okay then. I tense, waiting to find out what the fuck is going on, who the fuck she is, just… generally, what the actual fuck?

“Are you the Alpha Dirk? I’ve tracked down a handful of you, you all smell the same.” She gives a growl. It sounds… playful? Fuck, I really hope so. This is not a good position to start a strife in.

“Yeah,” I admit. Not a good time to try to fuck around. Even though if she kills me, I’ll just wake up. Without seeing Equius. And I’ve been desperate to see my lover. Fucking insomnia.

Her grin widens. "Good." Despite all this, her claws remain threateningly close to my skin. I barely breathe as she lowers her face close to mine. Her tone becomes deadly serious, with a reverberating undertone that does something to the instinctive parts of my brain. "If you hurt my moirail, I will gut you and eat your heart myself."

I finally allow myself to breathe. “Nepeta.” I should have guessed. Equius has talked about her often enough. Of course, I never expected her to attack me like this. And I haven’t actually met her in the flesh, so to speak. Dream-flesh? Is that even a thing? Back on track, Strider, cat-girl with claws near your neck.

She smiles at that. “Yes! You guessed purrfectly.”

I nearly groan. Cat puns. It’s worse than Equius’s horse puns. I actually find those almost cute, if ridiculous. It’s nice to see Equius loosen up a bit, I suppose. Right, drifting off in thoughts again, bad Strider. “I have no plans to harm Equius in any way,” I say shortly, calculating, just for the hell of it, how difficult it would be to get out of her hold without damaging her. Equius loves her, after all. Her strength is unexpected, but I can work with it.

Not that I’ll have to, I remind myself.

“Good,” Nepeta says, apparently unaware of my thoughts. Not that anyone _should_ be aware of my thoughts. Ever. I wouldn’t wish that bullshit on anyone. She sniffs at my cheek, weird, but then pulls back, grinning fangily. “Just remember I’m watching you, kitten,” she… purrs. That’s the only word for it. Jesus H. Dick, she’s really into this cat thing, isn’t she?

I sit up, stretching as nonchalantly as I can. “Then I hope you enjoy the show,” I drawl, smirking slightly.

She makes a face immediately. “I’m not watching you and Equius!” she says hurriedly.

I laugh. That was definitely worth it. “You should. It can get pretty spicy.” I surge to my feet and cross my arms over my chest. “Now, if that was all, I’d planned on meeting my boyfriend tonight.” I raise an eyebrow above my shades.

“What is going on here?” comes a familiar, oft longed for voice from behind me.

“Equius!” Suddenly Nepeta is jumping, heading right for my boyfriend. She hits him in the chest, and he… falls on his ass, sliding several feet across the ground of the dreambubble. I stare in shock. I’ve never seen anything push hard enough to make Equius even budge an inch. It’s like watching the unmovable object finally crumple before the unstoppable force and then the implosion of the universe. Just the three of us, falling into a black hole forever, while Equius hugs the cute catgirl like he’s missed her more than oxygen. Huh. Moirallegiance. I guess I’ll have to get used to that. I have to admit, I don’t like the idea of anyone else touching him for any reason. But then, I’m the king of control freaks. That’s what caused the English Fiasco, after all. I have to lighten up if I want to keep him.

And so I’m smiling by the time he looks up, even if it’s the tiniest bit strained. “Hey,” I say, at my most nonchalant.

He flashes his happiest, broken-toothed grin, and my heart melts. Anything is worth it if he’ll direct that at me. This is real love, not the desperate lust I felt for Jake.

Equius gently removes Nepeta from his lap, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. Then he’s on his feet, moving towards me with purpose. He stands before me, taking my hands in the gentlest grip he can manage. My heart pounds in the most cliche way imaginable as I stare up into his shades. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nepeta making a gesture as if smashing our heads together, and while I normally don’t make decisions to please voyeuristic catgirls, I want nothing more than to kiss this man, so why the hell not? Using our clasped hands as leverage, I stretch up on my toes and press my lips to his demandingly. Oh, fuck yes. These moments are what I live for. The way Equius melts, bending to my will without protest, even though I know Nepeta’s presence must mortify him. The way he breathes in my air, and I his, as if we share one soul. The way his lips part without prompting, inviting me to make his mouth my own personal playground. The way he sighs and whimpers, informing me that his shorts are likely already getting damp, his bulge pressing against fabric that won’t let it fully unsheathe. The way he wants me as if I’m the be-all and end-all of desirability.

I tug on his hands, and he sinks obediently to his knees, allowing me to stop straining to reach him. Now his head is below mine slightly, as he takes his proper subservient position. He is _mine_ , and everyone will know that. I drop one of his hands and reach up, grasping his unbroken horn tightly. Using it, I tip his head back, kissing him with the fiercest passion within me, claiming him for any in this bubble to see. Nepeta especially.

Equius groans, the grip on my hand tightening. It’s just short of painful, and I can tell he’s trying so hard not to crush my delicate bones. His strength makes my nerves burn. If I can’t have him soon, I’m going to ignite from the inside out, the mystery of spontaneous combustion solved once and for all. Though my hair gel might be a contributing factor to my overall flammability. What can I say? Beauty is worth the risk of open flames.

Sometimes I hate the way my mind works. Even in the midst of this, there’s a corner of myself analyzing everything under the sun.

I finally pull back, gasping. Equius may not actually _need_ to breathe, but I do. In fact, I may be starting to get dizzy from lack of oxygen. I let my hand fall to his shoulder, supporting myself on his rigidly unmoving frame. He smiles up at me in abject adoration, and I return one of tenderness and love. By now, obviously, we’ve forgotten our audience, who corrects our mistake by letting out a jarring, high pitched squeal.

Equius jerks away, flushing bright blue all the way down his neck. Fuck, that’s cute. “Nepeta!” he forces out, trying to look as haughty as he can on his knees. “A well-bred young lady doesn’t watch that sort of thing.”

I raise an eyebrow. Really, love? That’s what you’re going with?

Predictably, it fails. Nepeta laughs and bounds to us, kissing Equius’s hair. “You two are soooooo apurrable,” she beams. The pun is definitely a stretch, but I guess it’s better than a lot of the fish ones the teen Condesce likes to pull out. Trolls and puns, man. Fuck.

Equius raises his nose in the air. “I am no such thing,” he counters.

“You are!” Nepeta tugs his hair, grinning.

“No.”

“Yes!”

“No.”

“Yes!”

This goes on for some time, while I watch in bemusement. Finally I break in after the most enthusiastic yes so far. “I hate to interrupt, but I have to agree. You’re fucking adorable, babe. Myself, on the other hand… Well, I’m far too cool for that appellation to ever stick.” I buff my fingernails melodramatically on my shirt with an amused smirk.

Nepeta’s eyes roll. “You’re both precious little kittens and I ship it soooo hard.” She beams and hugs Equius again. “I’m so happy for you,” she murmurs, then darts away, vanishing into the distance.

I glance at my lover, who is flushing bright blue. Precious is a good word for it, I concede. I slide my hand into his hair, smiling tenderly down at him, still on his knees at my feet. I haven’t told him to rise, after all.

He smiles back. “I missed you,” he says softly.

“I know.” I kiss his forehead. “I missed you, too.” They way time is, here, there’s no telling how long it’s been for him. It’s been long enough from my viewpoint. I bend closer, putting my lips near his ear. My voice lowers, becoming sultry. “Why don’t you take me back to your hive and show me how much you really missed me?”

The shocked gasp and sudden gleam of sweat on his forehead makes me smirk. I love how easy it is to affect my strong troll.

That’s close enough to a command that he surges to his feet, scooping me up in his muscular, heart-stoppingly sexy arms. I barely notice as the bubble around us shifts, colors flowing together, swirling, to coalesce into a new formation, leaving us standing outside his hive. Why should I care what goes on around me when this herculean man is practically crushing me to his delicious chest?

A few long strides of my lover’s powerful legs have us inside, and he sinks onto his battered couch, laying back with me on top of him. Just as it should be. I shift into a better position to kiss him as forcefully as I know he craves. And before you start thinking I’m selflessly giving him what he wants, it’s exactly how I want it, too. I love the power I have over him. He moans into my mouth, huge hands gripping my hips tightly enough to bruise. Thank fuck that won’t show up on my real body. “Easy, tiger,” I growl, grabbing one of his wrists and pulling it above his head. The other hand obediently follows, a chorus of delighted whimpers falling from his lips. “Stay,” I add, firmly, and I can feel his bulge start to writhe beneath me, struggling in the confines of his shorts. Fuck, how he loves receiving orders. So fucking beautiful. And hell, I’m desperately hard myself, so I can’t really talk.

I bend the bubble to my will as easily as I do Equius, our clothes melting away as if they were made of sugar and it’s fucking pouring in the hive. My troll sobs in relief as his bulge slides against my leg. Tsk, tsk. His instincts are going to get him in trouble. I smirk as I grab the cool, squirming appendage. “What do you think you’re doing?” I make myself sound annoyed, though I know very well the thing has a mind of its own, blindly seeking a hole to wiggle into. It’s not his fault I work him into desperation.

He whimpers, screwing his blank eyes tightly shut. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he gasps brokenly, making my blood boil.

Such a good boy. I smile, tenderly stroking the bulge in my hand. The sounds he make as he spreads his legs wide, wantonly begging with every inch of his body, are almost better than the eventual sex. The desperation, the utter longing for _me_ above anything else in existence, it’s enough to make me burst into flame from the love and lust exploding through my body.

And then I’m pushing into his nook, the cool muscular walls gripping my dick and pulling it in further, and I’m fucking him hard and he’s screaming, his hands clenching around the arm of the couch to the sound of splintering wood, fuck he’s gorgeous, feels so good, thinking is what?

Fuck. I nuzzle at his shoulder, basking in the post-orgasm glow. His strong arms are curled around me. I love it, but I can’t let that stand, can I? I chuckle softly, eyes closed. “Did I say you could move, big guy?”

He tenses slightly, breath catching. “Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry.” He starts to remove his arms, obviously meaning to put them back where I’d instructed earlier.

“Nope, stallion, you’re in the shit now,” I say with a smirk against his shoulder. “But until I’m up to punishing you properly, you’re going to hold me and never fucking let go.”

He purrs, literally _purrs_ , and tightens his embrace around me. It’s not cracking ribs, so it’ll do. Fuck, how I love this troll. It’s like a warm blanket wrapped around my heart. I kiss his flesh beneath my head, so very tenderly. Emotions are difficult for me, so I just have to hope he understands. I think he does.

Just as I know how much he loves me.


End file.
